


You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

by Kagetsukai



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, F/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagetsukai/pseuds/Kagetsukai
Summary: Thank you for reading my Rylen smut! It has been a long time coming (har har), but I'm glad to finally have it out. Kudos & comments are love!





	You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masulevin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/gifts).



The day had been long, hot and filled with preparations for the upcoming assault on Adamant Fortress, and Rylen was having a hard time falling asleep now that it was nighttime. When he had first been stationed in the Western Approach, he had been under the impression that the desert wouldn’t be this scalding. By the time the summer months rolled around though, the Griffon Keep became unbearable during the waking hours. Only after the sun went down was when he found a tiny reprieve, as he stripped down to the thinest breeches he owned and laid on a tiny cot in his quarters.

His mind wouldn’t shut up and let him sleep, though. On top of the rosters, the drills, and other organizational crap he had to take care of for Cullen, there were also the thoughts of _her_. The one, the only, the Inquisitor Emma Aurelia Trevelyan. He groaned out loud and rolled onto his side in frustration.

This ill-advised infatuation with her had started well before the Inquisition had become the most powerful entity in southern Thedas, back when it was just a hundred or so soldiers trying to get trained enough to not get killed. Rylen remembered those times quite vividly and _she_ featured heavily in those memories. He could still recall the evenings when the Herald would visit The Singing Maiden, drink mead, and listen to rowdy stories told by various soldiers. She laughed a fair bit, even though he could see the darkness around the corners of her eyes. And any time her blue-green gaze fell on his, he could feel his mouth curve into a smirk, as he went with her joke for joke in a battle of puns. He had called her ‘lass’ once, completely on accident, and the smile it had earned him pushed him to call her that any time they were off duty.

Now, months after his reassignment to the Western Approach, he had thought his silly infatuation had gone away - only to find out it had gotten worse. The moment Emma arrived and jumped off her horse, the moment she flashed him that warm, self-assured grin, Rylen knew his feelings not only didn’t leave, but intensified in strength. He now wanted to take her into his arms, press her against his chest, and shield her from every evil that threatened her existence.

The knock at his door startled him out of his moping and he lifted his head to glare at it. It had to be almost midnight! There should be no reason why anybody would call on him... unless it was an emergency. The thought energized him immediately and he jumped out of bed, completely uncaring about his state of undress. The latch gave way easily and he swung the door open.

“What is going on?” he barked out, but any other words he had prepared died on his lips.

Standing on his doorstep was none other but the object of his deepest, darkest, most depraved dreams, and Rylen felt shame slide down his spine with an icy grip. For her part, Emma looked lost: her short blonde hair was mussed as if she had been sleeping, her nightgown rumpled and haphazardly covered with a shawl, her stormy eyes darting back and forth, searching. He frowned with bewilderment, though the moment she looked at him, he felt unable to move another muscle.

“Captain Rylen. May I come in?”

He nodded briefly and stepped aside, utterly confused as to why the Inquisitor would be visiting his quarters at such a late hour, esp. while dressed in so little. His own state of undress came to the forefront of his mind; he felt self-conscious about his scar-littered torso and a thin fabric that doubled as his nighttime trousers these days. She didn’t seem to notice or care, though, eyes sweeping around his modest quarters and all that he had.

“You don’t own much,” she commented quietly.

Rylen frowned and cocked his head.

“I don’t need much. I’m a soldier and physical belongings do not mean much to a man like meself.”

A soft smile graced her pale face as she nodded, and for a moment Rylen forgot the absurdity of the situation in favor of admiring the way her lips shined in the light of the full moon. Still, he found himself soon enough and his frown returned.

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Inquisitor?” he asked. “I wasn’t aware there would be a midnight inspection of my living space.”

Rylen’s words, sharp and pointed, seemed to startle her into focus and she barrelled her gaze into him again. This time, she seemed to have noticed how little he wore as her eyes raked over his chest… with appreciation? His body, long starved for a tender touch of a woman, responded at once and Rylen found himself working through breathing exercises to keep _things_ in check.

“I might die tomorrow,” she finally said.

That very thought, as jarring as it was, had crossed his mind a number of times before and had been an endless litany ever since she had arrived at Griffon’s Keep. Either way, he refused to accept it.

“You don’t know that,” he rebuffed her. “You might live to a really old age, surrounded by grandchildren and a crowd of obnoxious cats.”

For a brief moment she stared at him, wide-eyed, before a quiet chuckle escaped her mouth.

“Lovely fantasy, that,” she said and her smile turned sad. “But people like me don’t get to live long enough to see themselves age. I have long since accepted the inevitable.”

Rylen wanted to say something, refute her more, but she didn’t let him. She stepped closer and he was suddenly aware just how tiny she was in comparison to his own large body.

“When I face death tomorrow, I want to do it without regret or hesitation,” she announced. “I want to stand tall and know I’ve done everything that _I_ wanted to do.”

He frowned, clearly not understanding her meaning. Instead of explaining further, she placed a soft hand against his naked chest and made his heart beat a thousand times faster. As if completely unaware of what she was doing to him, she slowly slid that hand down the trail of dark hair and stopped just far away from the waistband to make it frustrating. When Rylen finally focused his eyes enough to look at her, he saw no more playfulness in her gaze, only an open invitation.

“I’ve seen how you look at me, Rylen,” she whispered. She shifted a little and placed her other hand on his abdomen, making the muscles there twitch. “I’ve seen the heat with which you want to devour me and I’m here because I want it too.”

Sweet Maker and Blessed Andraste. He had to be dreaming because he could have sworn the Inquisitor just propositioned him and the only thing he could think of was how much he wanted to say ‘yes’ and how much he shouldn’t.

“Inquisitor, are you s--”

“It’s Emma. Please,” she murmured and inched closer. It became difficult to think, or breathe, when all he could feel was the soft press of her clothed breasts against his chest and the warmth of her exhale against his neck. Was she still boring her eyes into him? He did not feel brave enough to look.

“Emma,” he breathed with difficulty. “Is this wise?”

She stopped her gentle assault then, stepped back a little, and wrapped her shawl closer to her. Once more she looked small, vulnerable, and in need of protection. When her eyes met his, they were sad and defeated.

“I don’t know, Rylen,” she whispered. “But I’ve been wise my entire life and it’s only brought me pain and disappointment. For once I want to throw caution to the wind and feel things for myself.”

The pain that dripped from every word made Rylen want to take her into his arms and hold her until she felt better. Then he realized she was giving him an opportunity to do just that.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare her off, he stepped up closer, put her darling face between his large hands, and leaned down to place a soft, undemanding kiss on her mouth. He needed to know that for all of her bravado and fear of death she wouldn’t regret it the moment clothes came off. Thankfully, she hadn’t been lying, because the moment their lips touched, she took his wrists in a vice grip and lifted onto her tiptoes to deepen their kiss.

Emma was intoxicating. Rylen could taste faint traces of wine she had with dinner as it mixed with flavors that had to be uniquely her. She was gentleness, she was steel; she was the unyielding desire to take from him what she had so brazenly demanded.

“Emma,” he murmured into her mouth, though she would not be distracted. She let go of him for a brief moment to discard her shawl, but then her hands were back, this time digging into his shaggy hair, exploring his neck, his chest, grasping at his shoulders in a plea to get him closer. Rylen could not think straight and finally decided he would stop trying anyway. He reached down her thighs, just under the ass, and hoisted her up against his body. Just as she squealed in surprise, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her hands grasped at his neck for dear life.

“Maker’s balls!” she cursed into his ear. “You’re _quite_ strong.”

He chuckled. “I’m a warrior, lass,” he explained. “Heavy work is what I do.”

“Are saying I’m heavy?” she asked, sounding half amused and half offended.

“Never,” he murmured into her ear. “Just letting ye know I won’t drop ye.”

Of course, Maker take him, the moment he gave into his arousal he had to start sounding like a bloody kaelpie. She didn’t seem to mind, though, especially once he carefully deposited her onto his cot, hovering while surveying her face, making sure she still wanted this. Her lust-hooded eyes were all the answer he needed.

This time, he descended upon her neck and kissed it, open-mouthed and filthy, the kind of kiss that was reserved for things other than love-making. She moaned out loud and he smirked to himself in victory. He repeated the motion, but this time using his teeth as he gathered her skin and squeezed ever-so-gently. She gasped even louder and he leaned back to see if he’d left a hickey.

“Admiring your handiwork?” she asked, breathless.

“That was not enough to leave a mark, luv,” he pointed out and leaned in to trail his mouth down her collarbone.

With the taste of Emma’s skin bright and salty on his tongue Rylen desired to sample more of her, to imprint her flavor on his mind for all eternity. She may want him only once, a quick tumble in the sheets, but he knew he’d treasure this encounter forever. Which meant doing everything in his power to make her scream with pleasure.

His hands found the edge of her thin shift and tugged lightly to bring Emma’s attention to it.

“You’re still wearing clothing,” he murmured between kisses on her throat.

“So are you,” she pointed out.

He grinned into her clavicle. “That can be easily fixed, lass.”

Just like that Rylen pushed himself off her body and upright, standing over her sprawled form like a general about to conquer the enemy city. His hands tangled into the waistband and gently tugged at the ties keeping pants around his hips. Emma watched, clearly entranced, as he slid the fabric down, guiding it around his aching arousal and letting it drop to the floor. She stared at it for a moment, her eyes wide and dark with lust, and she licked her lips like an animal about to devour its prey. Rylen’s cock twitched at the happy suggestion of her wet mouth wrapped around it.

“Yer tern, lass,” he rumbled in a voice he barely recognized as his own.

A lazy smirk slowly bloomed on Emma’s lips as she reached for the edge of her nightie. Rylen watched, transfixed, as she shimmied her hips and pulled the flimsy fabric up her luscious body. It didn’t take long before she lay naked before him, gloriously breathtaking and his to devour. She tossed the useless garment to the floor and, keeping eye contact with him, she spread her legs in an offering that was hard to ignore. Her hands slowly trailed over her breasts, down her belly and over her thighs, caressing the skin he could not wait to touch. Small fingers trailed over dark curls at the apex of her womanhood and dipped between the folds he could tell were swollen and wet.

“Are you going to stand there and watch, or are you going to come here and fuck me?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

The thought of watching her masturbate to completion sounded more appealing than Rylen was willing to admit out loud, but this was not the time or place to entertain such fantasies. He desperately wanted to spread her even more and drive into her heat until he forgot his own name. Still, that would be incredibly selfish and he _had_ promised himself to leave a good impression on her. With that in mind, he kneeled before the bed, reached for her thighs, and pulled her to the edge of the mattress in no uncertain terms.

Confusion crinkled her face and she raised onto her elbows at once.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

The question, so pointed and abrupt, made him frown. Surely, she knew…

“I want to taste you,” he said slowly. It was difficult to find a coherent thought with the scent of her sex clogging his nostrils. “If that’s okay, of course. Did you… not… I mean...”

Words trailed and fell off the tip of his tongue as he recognized the wide-eyed look on Emma’s face as panic and hesitation. He didn’t need to feel the sudden tension in her thighs to know she wasn’t keen on the idea, so he leaned back just enough to give her space.

“We don’t have to--” he started.

One hand shot out and gripped him in place, and he watched as her face lost its edge and melted into strange uncertainty.

“No! That’s not it. I... “ she started and paused, then cleared her throat. “I’ve never… I mean, a man has never…”

It was like a light from above illuminated his thoughts and he finally understood.

“A man has never given you his mouth?” he asked, aghast.

She shook her head and a spectacular blush painted her pale skin, from the tip of her head down to the gentle swell of her breast. It took everything Rylen had not to rage against any asshole who chose to see this beautiful creature and not make sure she experienced every kind of pleasure known to man. And that she felt embarrassed about it, too! He trailed a gentle hand up and down her thigh in a caress that was more loving that he had intended, hoping it would calm her fears.

“We don’t have to,” he said again, gently, “but I would very much like to show you what it’s like.”

 _And make it the best damned experience,_ he thought to himself. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before she nodded her head in agreement.

“And if I don’t like it, you will stop?” she asked.

Rylen chuckled and leaned in to press a small kiss to a bent knee. “Aye, lass. I will.” He shifted and kissed the other knee. “Though… I doubt you will want to.”

It was her turn to laugh.

“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she teased as she let the elbows relax and she flopped back onto the mattress.

He could have answered her, but by his reckoning, they had done enough talking already so Rylen decided to kiss her leg instead. He gently nibbled at the milky-white flesh, leaving reddened marks as he trailed his lips down her inner thigh. He could hear Emma’s ragged breathing hiccuping every so often as he stumbled over a particularly sensitive spot. Just when he got to the crux of her thighs, his stubble scratching at the sensitive skin, he paused and shifted to the other leg. A small, frustrated whine escaped her throat and he smiled; it did nothing to speed up his process, his need to bring her to the edge of insanity with his tongue at the forefront of his mind.

Even then, there was only so much teasing he could endure before he drove himself mad with desire. He paused, poised just above the delicious apex, and breathed her in once, twice, thrice, reveling in the little twitches of her hips as air hit her slick folds. Then he dipped his head and _licked_.

Her flavor, all silver and salt and musk, exploded onto his tongue and he moaned, pressing his mouth as close to her as possible. Emma didn’t stay still either, bucking her whole body against his face, both seeking more friction and trying to get away from abundance of sensations. Her thighs clenched tightly around his head and he had to briefly pull away so he wouldn’t get his neck snapped in half.

“Careful, luv,” he murmured and firmly grabbed her hips to keep them in place. “I don’t want to die just yet.”

It became a curious game for dominance as Rylen tried to keep an iron grip on her twitching body, while she kept trying to smother him with her thighs and bucking hips. He soon got the hang of it as he licked and sucked and kissed and sucked and licked and tugged and… Her climax came almost unannounced as her whole body stilled, clenched, and released onto his tongue. He continued lapping at her, receiving the gift of her pleasure as she trembled all around him and mewled like a kitten.

Once her noises turned into a mild complaint, Rylen pulled away and took a deep breath, desperately needing a break. His tongue and lips felt horribly sore from however long it took to make Emma climax and half of his face was coated with her slick. He took advantage of the fact that she still looked boneless and out of it, and cleaned his face with his discarded pants. That done, he slowly climbed onto the cot and over Emma’s prone form. Her eyes opened briefly and a smile spread her lips; she looked beautiful like that, all disheveled and spent, and his heart stumbled within his chest. If only--

“That was quite the performance, captain,” she purred as her hands dipped into his hair. “I approve.”

Rylen smiled briefly and leaned in to place a sweet kiss onto her pliant mouth.

“It’s Rylen, lass,” he reminded her. “I won’t have you use my title when you insist on shedding yours.”

“Of course,” she said against his jaw. “Rylen.”

It shouldn’t have meant anything - she’d called him by name before - but something in her tone, in that moment, sent a shiver down his spine and caught his breath. Her lips cut a leisurely path up and down his neck, and suddenly the exceedingly painful erection he had been ignoring thus far refused to be ignored anymore. He gently rocked his hips against her still-protruding knee, his cock rubbing against soft skin.

“Lay down,” she hummed against his skin.

What happened next wasn’t exactly the sexiest transition Rylen could have imagined, as their bodies tangled and bumped against each other on top of his inadequately-sized bed. In the end, he found himself flat on his back with Emma sitting neatly between his knees, her hands absently traveling up and down his thighs. There was something extremely erotic yet comfortable about this situation, their naked bodies out on display for each other to see and enjoy. Still, while he definitely liked what he saw, he desperately needed a release. Without a second thought, he reached for his throbbing cock, firmly clasped his fingers around it, and staring Emma dead in the eye he moved his hand up and down.

Her reaction was immediate: before he could repeat the motion, her hand clasped firmly around his and paused any further motion he may have planned.

“I believe it’s _my_ turn to take care of you,” she announced and waited until he let go of himself.

Her small, pale hand made an interesting contrast against his much darker skin; the sensation of delicate fingers touching his throbbing cock made him shamelessly groan out loud.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted.

And before he could say another thing, she leaned over and pressed his length between her lips.

Rylen almost came on the spot, right there and then. The warmth, the tightness, the velvety feel of her tongue on his cock made for a barrage of sensations that shot pleasure up his spine and down every nerve in his body. His eyes briefly rolled closed, overwhelmed, before he forced them open to watch as Emma carefully bobbed her head up and down, taking him deeper with each swipe. He would gladly stay like that, her mouth so skillfully drawing ragged moans from his throat, but that was not where he wanted the night to end.

“Emma,” he called to her and reached out to pause her movement. “I.. I won’t last like that.”

It was the truth and he felt it in his bones. Well, bon _er_. He tried to chuckle at his own terrible joke, but all that came out was a ragged breath that sounded like something out of a dying man. Perhaps he was, because he felt like he would die if he didn’t feel her soft flesh wrapped around his cock. Thankfully, Emma seemed to feel the same way, because she slowly, tortuously pulled away from him with a delightful _pop_ and smirked with satisfaction.

“That’d be a shame,” she quipped. “Thankfully, you should be slick enough.”

Rylen furrowed his brows. “What?”

“I’m trying to give myself extra lubrication to take you in,” she said with a grin. She widened her stance and moved her legs to settle over his core; she once again took his cock in her hand and steadied it. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of someone this… thick.”

Before Rylen could return the comment -- compliment -- whatever -- she lowered herself onto him with a sigh.

If he had thought her mouth felt wonderful, her cunt was downright divine. Rylen instinctively reached for Emma’s thighs to steady her, trying hard to keep looking at the glorious sight before him. Her eyes closed in an expression of sheer ecstasy while little trembles ran along her body. For a moment he wondered if she had come just from their joining, but then she relaxed and opened her hazy eyes.

“Mmmm…” she purred. “Very nice.”

She was beautiful, majestic like that, a goddess of old who became flesh once more to receive adoration from her willing subjects. And Rylen was more than willing. He dug his fingers into her legs, effectively immobilizing her, and thrust up into her. A little gasp escaped her o-shaped mouth and she fell a little forward, bracing herself against his chest. He grinned at her.

“Glad you like it, lass,” he quipped.

Emma’s retaliation was to snap her hips against him, effectively making Rylen forget his words. Any further thoughts escaped him with the next few thrusts - she was giving back as much as she took and the resulting friction brought him to heights he had never experienced before. It didn’t take long for them to find a rhythm and soon enough his room echoed with the delicious sounds of their bodies slapping together.

The familiar pressure along his spine returned, tingling, focusing, crawling ever lower. It wouldn’t be long before even his lyrium-induced stamina gave way to the overwhelming rush of pleasure. Desperately, Rylen brought his right hand to his lips, thoroughly wet his thumb, and reached to place it against her clit. He didn’t get it at a first try, but with a little bit of moving around, Emma gasped and her hips stuttered in their pace. Another moan fell out of her mouth as she resumed her chase.

Rylen felt the moment of no return in the tightening of his balls, in the clench of his abs, in the overwhelming need to let go. Panic gripped his heart, because he could tell Emma was getting close too, but he also knew he could not finish inside of her. It would be too risky; neither of them needed repercussions of this one-night-stand. He gently slapped at her thigh to grab her attention.

“Emma… gonna come,” he grunted.

She didn’t reply; she didn’t even stumble.

“Emma!” he growled louder and tried to forcefully unseat her.

She only clamped harder around him and one of her hands pinned his own in place, making sure his thumb stayed on her clit.

“It’s fine,” she huffed through her clenched teeth, as she kept bouncing up and down. “Please, Rylen. Just come inside of me!”

And like the good soldier he was, Rylen did.

His entire body _clenched_ under Emma, uncoiling and bucking just enough to make it precarious for her position above him. She must have been prepared, or perhaps didn’t care, because she stayed seated on his hips with his cock buried deep inside of her, accepting his seed as if didn’t matter. It was perfection and he loved it.

Rylen more felt than heard when Emma came again, her orgasm much more tame than when he gave her his mouth. Still, he delighted in the soft clench of her flesh around him, the way she trembled and fell forward against his chest. Almost instinctively, his arms came about her and brought them closer together into a sweaty, exhausted mess.

As much as the pervasive heat from before would not let him comfortably fall asleep, now the post-coital weariness claimed him almost immediately. He barely remembered to bring up his bed sheet to place over them, cuddling Emma in his arms like the precious woman that she was. He may have murmured a few sweet nothings into her ear, because the quiet giggle that escaped her made his heart flutter in the silliest ways. This was good. This was really good. And with that last fuzzy thought, he was lost to the conscious world.

* * *

 

When Rylen woke up to the cold, grey hour of the morning, he was alone. The space next to him had already grown cold and he wondered for a moment if he had dreamt the entire encounter. Surely, the Inquisitor wouldn’t--

He saw his sleeping pants, soiled with her slick and crumpled on the floor, and two things became a reality: he did not make up the amazing sex with the Inquisitor, and she most definitely did not want to be found in his bed. It had been a proper one-night-stand and Rylen would accept it as the gift that it was.

If only he could convince his heart to stop yearning for what he could not have...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my Rylen smut! It has been a long time coming (har har), but I'm glad to finally have it out. Kudos & comments are love!


End file.
